


Cleome Lutea

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance encounter and a fleeting crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleome Lutea

Follows Chalk hadn't spoken more than a dozen words to her. She'd come out of the White Legs ambush with a scowl and a gash on her forehead, nearly shot him before he called out in the Owslander language. That had been enough to put her pistol back in its holster, enough to convince her to follow him. He took her to the Dead Horse camp, casting frequent glances back over his shoulder at her.

She was fair skinned, like the Mormon missionaries, redheaded and perhaps six years his senior. Her eyes were yellow, and her freckled face had a mean cast to it. He would have been reminded of a cat, if he'd ever seen one, and if his English had been better, he might have said that she was "tough as nails."

Too tough, at any rate, to want a guide. He had watched her speak with Joshua. She crossed her arms and frowned, looked across the cave at him. Follows Chalk tried to look like he wasn't dying to know what she and Joshua were talking about, dying to know her name and what had brought her to Zion. He wanted so badly to be included in their conversation, but instead tried to occupy himself with the paintings on the walls.

She left without saying another word to him. Joshua told him later that her name was Margaret, and he had wanted him to accompany her to the Sorrows camp. She had refused, said she was a grown woman and didn't need "some kid tagging along."

He wasn't in any position to speak back to Joshua, but he wished the missionary had spared him the stinging truth of Margaret's words.

He thought of her later that night, as he sat by the fire. He wasn't a child, hadn't been for years. He wasn't an adult either, not in age nor in ranking, but he was very close. He only had another month, maybe two, before he was made a full scout. He had been sent out on solo missions before; his apprenticeship was almost complete.

And yet, in the eyes of the Owslander, still just "some kid."

If he were braver, more brash, he might go out and do something dramatic to try to catch her eye. He wasn't sure what Owslander courting rituals were like, but he thought she would like flowers, yellow, like her eyes. But he was warm by the fire, and she was clear across Zion, spending the night with Daniel in the Sorrows camp.

It was probably better to think about her than to be with her, if she didn't want him there. Easier to face rejection from a distance than to confront it.

"Some kid."

He supposed she wasn't worth the energy. That was what Joshua would say, at any rate, not that Follows Chalk would ever dream of talking to him about women. He left the fire and fell asleep thinking about red hair and eyes like wildflowers. In the morning, he was over her.


End file.
